The Day Runescape Went Crazy
by Rebecca the Eccentric Crackpot
Summary: Something has gone seriously wrong with Runescape. Zamorak is engaged in charity work, and one can no longer walk through others...Now, with the help of a rather rebellious burnt pizza and a fire breathing chicken, I must set out to make this right.
1. The lunacy commences!

I do not own Runescape in any way, shape or form. I'm not even sure that I own my character... Neither do I own Inuyasha or any of it's many theme songs.

Yami Rebecca is my real username, if you want to bug me. However, my friends are made up, because I don't think my real friends would appreciate people messaging them to annoy them about the story... And I do sing while collecting things. It gets so boring… (sweatdrop) Alas is the closest thing to a bad word that I use while playing the game…

And I'd like to thank several people for ideas. You know who you are, I won't mention your usernames…

Well, on with the story!

I took a big breath of the simulated air. It was a nice day in Runescape. It was always a nice day in Runescape. Why didn't Runescape have any weather…? I decided that I'd have to bug one of the gods about that. I clobbered a Lesser Demon on the head with my scimitar. He didn't like it. He clobbered me back, and hit a 7. I clicked on my inventory. Alas - I was out of pizza. I finished off the demon, and aimed for the exit. I went to the nearest bank - in Falador. I talked to the banker, who opened my bank account for me. I only had 2 pizzas left. I sighed. I obviously wouldn't be back to trouncing the demons anytime soon. I wandered down to Aggie's hut. I waddled between the tables, collecting cheese and tomatoes, while singing the Inuyasha theme song "Every Heart" happily in the original Japanese.  
"Shut up," someone told me.  
"Why?" I asked, "You could put me on your ignore list." I returned to singing.

I finished collecting the toppings, and applied them to part of my large stash of pizza bases. I trotted to Lumbridge to bake my pizzas.

Cooked.

Cooked.

Cooked.

Burnt.

I sighed, and right-clicked the burnt pizza. I was about to drop it, then…  
"Don't drop me!"

I took a few steps backward, and tried to sit on a chair in my amazement. The pizza was talking to me! Alas, I was doomed to stand forever. I tentatively poked the pizza.

"Who - or what - are you?"

"A burnt pizza"

"I know that!"

"Why did you ask me, then?"  
"Because you're talking."

"Ah yes," It sighed. "People don't expect us to be able to talk. They think we're just mindless puppets, not caring if we're eaten. Well, I'm taking a stand against that! By the time I'm through with them, they'll-"

"Be quiet!"  
"See what I mean?"  
A giant sweatdrop rolled down my head. "Why did I have to be the one to end up with a rebellious pizza…?" I asked nobody in particular.

"What?" about a hundred people asked, with various degrees of bad spelling.

"Eh…?" I walked into the castle courtyard, where about 100 level 3s and 4s were residing. "What happened here? The pkers at an all time high?"  
One player stepped forward.  
"It's the chickens. They're breathing fire…"  
"_What?_" I tried to sit down again. Still cursed. "They're breathing _fire_…?"

"The cows aren't helping either."

"Cows…?" Sweatdrop of the century. "And… the cows are doing _what_, exactly…?"

"Armor, and warhammers."

I had to see this. I went to the duke for protection from the fire-breathing chickens, and started on my journey, scimitar in hand.  
I had no idea how stupid cows look in full helmets.

Now I do.

Were they trying to imitate the chickens, being that chickens were preoccupied with breathing fire? I continued on my way, because I was very curious about the fire-breathing chickens. But I stopped when I heard laughter.

Evil laughter.

Coming from a suspiciously friendly-looking guy.

"Saradomin…?" I muttered, bewildered. "Something is wrong here…"

"Bow to me or feel my wrath, imbeciles!"

Now he was acting like my alter ego.

"PKERS UNIIIIIIIIIITE!"

The chickens had intrigued me. But this was overkill.

"What, in the name of pickled herring, is going on!" I muttered loudly. Saradomin heard me.

"Mwahahahaha! Human blood to drink!" I tried to run, but alas, something had drained me of my energy. I kissed my scimitar goodbye.

"Now now, brother, that doesn't sound very nice!" Zamorak was walking towards the crazed Saradomin, with a concerned look on his face.  
Zamorak never looked concerned.

Something was seriously wrong here.

"The only way to achieve true happiness is by helping the poor and helpless," he said, with a giant smile on his face.

The gods had switched places.

"Now, why don't you join me in some relaxing yoga?" Zamorak crooned.

"Bloooooood…" Saradomin said, staring at me. Zamorak looked, and started to walk toward me. I took a few steps backward. He patted me on the head.

"Now then, I'll take care of my brother, and you just run along."

Zamorak had patted me on the head.

Run I did.

Until, of course, I reached the chicken farm near Falador.

In my bewilderment, I had forgotten that there was a chicken farm closer to Lumbridge.

Very few chickens were dead.  
However, there were piles of newbie loot everywhere.

A blast of fire, and the nearest newbie was dead.

Indeed, the chickens were breathing fire.


	2. Oh, Woe Is Me!

Okay, I don't own Runescape. Okay? Are you happy now?

CHAPTER 2 BEGUN!

Boldly, I stepped up to one of the chickens, and thwacked it with my nice, sharp scimitar. I hit an 8, but alas, the poultry appeared to have more stamina than I was accustomed to. The bird exhaled, and hit me with its thermally enhanced breath.

And boy, did it hit hard.

As in, the-chicken-just-hit-a-37-against-poor-Rebecca hard.

I stumbled backwards, realizing that I had oh-so-cleverly forgotten to equip my anti-dragonbreath (or chickenbreath, for that matter) shield. The fowl advanced, and opened its beak, ready to deliver another crushing blow. I clicked on my inventory, to see if I could equip the accursed shield before the fowl's fiery exhalation. Alas, it didn't work.

Curse the lag…

Again I kissed my rune kiteshield goodbye and prepared for a quick trip to Lumbridge…

Then the burnt pizza stepped in the way.

The chicken stared.

So did I.  
"Myahahahahaaaah!" it cackled, "You can't burn me! I'm already severely overcooked!"

The chicken stared some more.

So did I.

"Umm," I volunteered, quite unsure of what to say, "I didn't know you could walk."

The pizza sighed. "Underestimating me yet again, I see. Humans…"

I imitated its sigh. "Pizzas…"

The chicken kept staring.

So I stared back.

"For the pizza's incredible act of valor, bravery, and all that nonsense," the chicken started, "I will spare thy life. But heed my warning, if thou attemptest to smite me a second time, I guarantee that I will smite thee!"

"Umm." This time, I truly had no fitting words.

However, words seemed to tumble out of my mouth.  
"Do you want to join me on my quest to find out what exactly is going on?"

"I am willing to join thee on thy most noble quest."  
"Okay then." I paused. "Well, where do we start, exactly…?"

"The witch by the name of Hetty, in Rimmington knows what thou must do. She will direct thee to the start of our quest."

"Why can't she do it, then?" I wanted to know.

"Fool!" the chicken shouted, "If she did it, then this story wouldn't be nearly as interesting! Now be off!"  
"I will be off. And you're coming with me."

"Indeed. It would seem I am doomed to quest while surrounded by idiots…"

I clobbered the chicken.  
"YOU IDIOT!" it yelled. It appeared to have forgotten its medieval way of speaking.

"You have forgotten your medieval way of speaking," I pointed out.

"That's not the point!"  
"That's a good thing, actually. I'm getting sick of typing stuff in Middle English…"

"so shud we go 2 heti now" it asked, chatspeaking.

I bopped it again, harder.  
"NO CHATSPEAK, IMBECILE!"  
The pizza stepped in between the fire-breathing chicken and the overly… umm… bopative Yami Rebecca.  
"Come on, stupid people! We're boring the readers!"  
I gasped.  
"No, not that! They must feed me reviews!"

"Well, come on then!"

I sighed.  
"Indeed, let's be on our way to Hetty…"

So, I went to Rimmington, accompanied by a burnt pizza and a fire-breathing chicken that was acting like it was constipated…

"HEY! YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO TYPE THAT ABOUT ME!"

"You can't talk in caps. The game won't let you."

"Oh, shut up, you stupid knuckleheaded – "

"Reviews, people! The readers are getting sick of this!"

Finally, we reached Rimmington, and walked through the door of the witch with an overly large nose.

Boom.

My skin turned green.

I sighed.  
"Thanks a lot, Hetty."

"Sorry. I'm redecorating. You got in the way of the door-painting spell."

My skin turned back to normal.

"Better. So, why are you here?"

"To seek your advice about why Runescape appears to have gone psycho."

She sighed.

"When spells go wrong…"

The walls turned a fluorescent magenta color and Hetty grew shorter by about a foot.

"Umm," I said, quite at a loss for words, "You're shorter…"

"I know. Isn't it wonderful?"

The top of her hat poked me in the nose.

"…If you say so."

The chicken sneezed, scorching a streak across Hetty's newfound glowing blue carpet.

I looked at it quite oddly indeed.

"Chickens don't sneeze."

"Then I'm not a chicken."

The walls turned a rather brilliant purple with glowing yellow stripes, and Hetty was now about 4 feet tall.

Now it was her turn to be looked at oddly.  
"Okay then." I said. I decided I had no desire to be part of the witch's bizarre diminutiveness. "Just tell me what I'm supposed to do about this… peculiarity."

"Feed me a pizza and I'll tell you."  
The burnt pizza began to growl, and I had to restrain it from assaulting the conjurer.

"Would a chocolate cake suffice?"

"Whatever."

I supplied her with the pastry and she sighed.  
"It all started when Zar – um, Bob, the Jagex cat tripped me when I was trying to morph my bed into an oyster…"

One of my eyebrows went very high on my face.

"An oyster…? Why…?"

"None of your business."  
"Okay."

"So I fell over backwards and the spell went up and shattered, and pieces of the spell have been raining down all over Runescape…"  
"One would think that it would turn everything into an oyster, n'est-ce pas?" (A/n: French for "Isn't it so?" Pronounced, "Ness pah"

"It's a spell designed for beds. It has… Other effects… on other things."  
I groaned.  
"Well, how do I fix it?"

"You can't."  
I began to growl in the same manner that the pizza did earlier.

"Only Andrew Gower can fix it."

"And why doesn't he, might I ask?"

"He's in Tahiti for the next 2 months."  
I sighed. "Wonderful. This is absolutely marvelous. Spiffy. Perfect."

"But one can contact him."  
"How's that?"  
"You must embark on a dangerous quest, unlike any ever seen before! Trekking across perilous flatlands and mountains of fire! You must embark on a mind-blowing pursuit of the ever-elusive shadow of the past! You must –"  
"Out of inquisitiveness, would you be disposed to bequeathing me with other unambiguous minutiae?"

"Huh?"

"Specific, please."

"Sorry. No can do."  
"Why not?"

"Because, umm… I don't know anything more."

"Really helpful, you were."

"Isn't that so." Her walls changed to a glowing orange color as I left the building, then her roof reappeared.

"Well, that was helpful," I informed the chicken, who sneezed and scorched the grass. "About as helpful as a coconut would be in cloning a mountain lion," the chicken suggested, as we walked to Falador. (A/n: The spell checker wanted to change Falador to "Folder"…) I deposited my mountain of pizzas, uncooked and cooked, in the bank, except for the burnt pizza, who said that the bank smelled strongly of cats. I strolled into the marketplace, where another quite fascinating event was taking place.

"…I hear the lead singer is quite extraordinary," said a level 120 zombie.

"Yes, he's phenomenal," a river troll agreed.

"What are you talking about…?" I wanted to know.  
"NTombed! The band of shades!" yelled a Tree Spirit.  
I had to see this.

"And where do they perform…?" I inquired.  
"In the old castle. It's a 100 gp cost to enter."  
"Thank you."

"Wait… You look suspiciously human!" a Rock Golem thundered, and any order in the marketplace disintegrated.

CHAPTER 2 FINISHED!

So you know, Caelestie is one of my many side accounts.  
Now, please, if you read my story, REVIEW! Or I might be forced to set the fire-breathing chicken on you.


	3. Zaumbob, Fiend of Lumbridge!

I am not a 'n00b". I already deleted the review in which someone called me that.

I will have it known that I have played for several years, and am a level 75 on my main. I'd be a higher level but I train slowly… (sigh)

I don't own the song, "Thunder Underground". I've never even heard it. All I know is that I found the song on the internet and it sounded like a shade would sing it…

And I still don't own Runescape or anything Jagex, for that matter. All I own is my mountain of accounts, and even those, not completely.

And I don't own Star Wars.

And, I am NOT a "n00b". If someone who's played for two years is a "n00b", then I don't know about the people who've only played for a week, or a month…

CHAPTER 3 COMMENCES!

"A human! Annihilate her!" the crowd roared, advancing on me.

"I'm not a human!" I bellowed, "I'm a collection of electrons!"

Silence.

"Oh."  
"You can be on your way then."  
"Enjoy the concert, collection of electrons!"

I hastened to the old castle, paid the fee for a ticket, and made my way inside. My friend Caelestie was standing there, giggling at some very obviously drunk lesser demons.

"Hi, Caelestie!"  
She jumped approximately two feet and turned around.  
"Hey Yami!" (A/n: My screenname is Yami Rebecca, if you've forgotten…)

"What's up?"  
"The ceiling."  
"No it isn't. You've forgotten that the ceiling vanishes when you go into a building."  
I sighed. "Whatever. So where's the concert…?"  
"Upstairs. It starts in a minute… Ikimashou." (A/n: "Shall we go?" in Japanese.)

We ascended the ladder. Up there a group of shades were standing in an area blocked off by a fence of longswords sticking out of the ground. We found a place to stand, because as of yet sitting was unfeasible and waited for the show to start. It took about 5 minutes before everyone's visual settings were adjusted to "dark", and the shades began to sing.

It was true; they were pretty good.  
But this was just silly.

"Caelestie…" I whispered, "You want to help me figure out what's going on?"

"Nah," she murmered back, "At the time that you're writing this story, I'm only level 10. And I'm your side account."

"_You find me mystifying,  
Subhuman, so annoying.  
You can't have me under control…"_ the shades crooned in the background. I sighed. "Okay…"

"Wait…" Caelestie looked at me impishly. "How can I be playing? One can't play as two accounts at once."  
I sighed yet again. This was the downside of talking to myself.

"_Can't stop the deathwatch ticking.  
You're only mortal, after all…"_ sang the shades.

"Er," I expertly replied to my alter-account's inquisition. "I –"  
The chicken sneezed several times, sending out jets of flame across the remarkably wooden floor, and cutting off the conversation that I was having with myself.

I moaned as I dragged the chicken out of the building, while behind me an ice giant swiftly extinguished the fire.

"You need to stop doing that!" I reproached it once we were in a safe, non-wooden environment.

"It's not my fault!" it whined, "I'm allergic to cats."

Behind me, I heard a "Mrraaauuwww" that sounded exceptionally like evil laughter. The chicken sneezed again, and I quickly jumped out of the way of the shoots of fire. I turned around.

"Za – um, Bob!" I gasped, as crouched there was a not-as-innocent-looking-as-most-kittens kitten.

"Yes, that's right," it meowed, an evil, yet very, very catlike grin spread across its furry face. "I am Zaumbob, Fiend of the Underworld!"

"Fiend of Lumbridge?"

"Er… Yes! Fiend of Lumbridge!"

"You're not Zaumbob. And there's already a Bob in Lumbridge."

"Drat." The feline sighed. "But I am the villain of this story! Do not make fun of me, human!"

"Collection of electrons," I corrected, "And the readers weren't supposed to know that you're the villain yet."

"Oops. Sorry." I sighed.  
"Get on with it…"

It mewed at me in an all-too-innocuous manner.

"I see that you are my greatest challenge in insanitifying –"

"Insanifitying?"

"Crazifying, loonifying, bizarrefying…"

"I see." I drew my blade and pointed it at the cat. "Give me a reason that I shouldn't smite you!"

It looked at me with big, adorable kitten eyes. I ran to it and hugged it.

"Oh, such a sweet kitty!"  
"NO HUGGING THE BAD GUY!" chastised the pizza. I withdrew.

"Why do you wish to do this to the game?"  
"Stupid huma – collection of electrons! If I didn't do this your story would be boring – and normal!"

I gasped.  
"Not normal! No! Never! YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIIIIIVE!" I began to run frantically in circles and almost fell over, except that Runescape seems to forbid anything but a standing position.

The chicken sneezed and lit my hair on fire.

Really calming effect, that.

I had been considering going to the hairdresser.  
Now I really had to.

I hastily put a chef's hat (that just happened to be in my inventory) over my blackened hair, and looked angrily at the cat, who was giving me an innocent look.

"What?" it inquired angelically.

Grr.  
"Stupid mammals!" cried the burnt pizza. "You're boring the readers!"

I sighed.  
"All right."  
The feline meow/cackled maliciously, and vanished in a puff of black smoke.

The chicken sneezed.

Rebecca now had flaming boots.

"Curse it!" I yelled, and stamped out the fire.

I sighed.  
"On with the story!" I yelled, holding my scimitar up in the air.

And so, I continued the story.

And I had no clue what I was doing.

So I made something up.

"I must destroy the fiend that calls himself Zar… Bob!" I yelled, waving my scimitar rather psychotically.

"Rebecca!" chastised my beloved burnt pizza, "That line sounded like it came straight out of Star Wars!"

I sighed. (I wonder how many times I've sighed…)

"Indeed."  
I dropped my scimitar on my foot. I yelped. Paaaaaaain…

But out of my foot fell a talisman-looking-thing of sorts.

The chicken stared at me.  
"You have big feet," it notified me.

I kicked it and examined the talisman. It looked like a normal talisman… Same size, and everything. Just no picture. I right clicked on it, and inspected it. "Locate God Talisman" it said.

God Talisman?

If this thing led me to Saradomin the Sadistic, I was dead meat…

But if it didn't, what could it possibly be…?

"Come!" I said, with an exclamation mark, "Let us ascertain where this talisman shall guide us!"

The pizza looked at me dubiously.

"Are you kidding? Any normal person would try to sell that. I bet you could get a fortune for that from some idiot!"

"Who says I'm normal? I'll follow it wherever it takes me!" I declared. "I wonder how much it would sell for…?"

The chicken exercised its ability to scorch my nose.  
"Idiot. That's the only lead we have… If you sell that, you'll have to come up with another way to continue the story!"

I blanched.  
"No!" I yelped, "Not that!"

That was decided, then.

But poor Rebecca was getting sick of typing. Her fingers hurt. So she pitied herself, and ended the chapter of this story.

Well.

That was that.  
You can probably count on an update soon. I have a lot of ideas…

If you hated that chapter, it will get better.

And if you liked it… It will still get better.

Please review. I thrive on reviews.

And if you want to talk to me, my usernames are:  
Yami Rebecca, Random Ruler, Pharaohbecca, Caelestie, Ramen Llama, Ptarmicheese, Yami no Ohi (Never play that account…), Yamirebecca (never play that account either…)

There are probably some that I've forgotten.

Anyways, review and I won't put you on my hit list!


	4. Walking Through!

So. Another chapter. More torture for my readers. Ah well, you do seem to enjoy it. Thanks for all the reviews, and keep it up!

Again, I don't own Runescape, or Jagex. I just own my character…kind of. And I also don't own any annoying songs from Barney.

For all those people who begged to be put in the story – I've decided against it. I'm sorry, but it is against the rules…

And…  
THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! (shniffle) You guys make me feel loved…

I sighed for the 14th time in the story. What was I supposed to do? I knew where I wanted the story to go, but getting there… that was a whole other story. (Not exactly)

So. I walked in a circle, then pressed "locate" on my talisman. It attempted to fly; straight up.

Was the "God Altar" in the sky somewhere? Did Runescape even have a sky? I pondered about this question for a while, until…

"Yami Rebecca, I am a pickaxe thief," a level 72 standing behind me (can't mention his name) announced.

I whirled around.

"Who are you? How do you know my name?" I demanded.

"You can't put my name in your story, and your name shows up when I move my mouse over you."

"Indeed. I wonder where the name comes from? Is it teleported from another dimension when someone moves their mouse over me? Are there people living in that dimension? Do they wonder about the names? Do they have names? Does entropy affect the names? When someone's holding their mouse over you and you select the emote animation "Spin", does centrifugal force throw the name off of you?" I took a deep breath and sighed (Number 15). "And what do you want…?

"I come on behalf of my lord Za – um, Bob."

My eyes narrowed.

"So, you are a minion of the cat."

"I'm not a minion, I'm his second in command!"

"Minion," I repeated. I wasn't about to let this level 72 get the better of me. "What do you want?"

"I have come," he replied. I heard a faint drumroll in the background, "to steal your pickaxe head!"

I stared until I realized that I was in danger of logging out.

"…what?"

"Steal your pickaxe head!" he repeated. "You know… the head on your pickaxe."  
I stared some more.

"I know what you mean," I finally said.

"Then why aren't you intimidated?"  
I tried to raise one eyebrow. Unfortunately, doing that on Runescape was…rather difficult. I sighed (The 16th time!) and started to walk towards my bank. It appeared that this idiot was in severe need of trouncing…

He followed me.  
In my immortal words,

"Go away."

He didn't obey.

Instead, I had a pickaxe handle in my inventory.

I spun around and glared angrily at him.

"What. Did. You. Do. To. My. Pickaxe?"

He waved a rune pickaxe head in front of my face.  
"Stole the head," he said with a grin.

"Give it back," I said, "Now."

"No."

The chicken, who, along with the pizza, had been very quiet until this point in this chapter began to wail.

"Oh, thou dreadful decapitator of pickaxes! May dyspepsia fall upon your stomach, beast!"

Now, both me and my enemy were staring at the chicken.

"Did that chicken just talk…and tell me that I should have indigestion?" the nameless one inquired.

"Please," I inquired of the chicken, "please explain your wording."

"Didn't you know?" asked the formerly silent pizza, "that if you goof around with Microsoft Word's thesaurus the subject will eventually change?"

I, again, tried to raise my eyebrow.

I, again, failed.

I turned back to the person whose name I cannot say.

But he was gone.

"Imbecile!" I shrieked into the computer-simulated wind, "He absconded with my pickaxe head!"

Angrily, I pressed "locate" on my God Talisman again.

But this time, I got results.

"WHOA!" I yelled, flying east. Apparently, my pickaxe head had been the only thing holding me down. Fortunately, in an odd turn of events, my pizza and chicken had learned how to fly.

I landed in the middle of Varrock Marketplace.

"Okay then." I informed a random player that I was standing in.

"wut do u wnt" they said, and walked away. I pulled out my handy chatspeak translator, and was able to understand the message.

"Nothing!" I called after them.

Behind me, I heard a voice.

"Yami, I'll be your friend," it said.

I twirled around. Behind me--oh horror of horrors--was a horde of level 3s.

"I'll be your friend," a different one said.

"NOOO!" I screamed.

"ATTAAAAAAAACK!" they replied.

I shrieked as they charged.

I tried to go into run mode, and failed.

Curse the lag…

I stared with dread as the throng of newbies charged, tried to kiss my scimitar goodbye, and failed.

Dratted lag!

But suddenly, at the last moment, they were run over by a giant burnt lobster.

"Yeeeek!" yelled as one of my friends (can't say his name either), who happened to be riding the lobster, crashed into the giant fountain.

"…" I said, quite wisely.

"Hello!" he said, drying his armor off with a towel.

"Hello indeed," I said, staring at the towel.

"Indeed," he repeated, amused.

"Indeed," I stated, now staring at the lobster. "What the…?"

'I cooked him, and he started talking to me…" said my nameless friend.  
"Why does that sound familiar…?" I asked, glancing at my pizza.

"Except it looks like the lobster is actually useful…"

The pizza growled.

"I protect you from chicken breath, you ingrate!

I sighed (17!).

"You only did that once. My hair's been lit on fire several times now!"

The chicken sneezed in agreement, sizzling my poor friend's towel.

"Hey! I liked my towel!" he yelled.

At this point in the story, I saved what I had written, closed Microsoft Weird, and came back several weeks later as a level 79 member. (Well, I've got to keep up with my character!)

Alas, after several weeks, the nameless one was there no longer.

I wandered aimlessly several times around the giant fountain in Varrock that looks like one could fish in it.  
Then, there was another player in the way. And there was something wrong…

I couldn't walk through him.

"What?" I exclaimed/asked, "Why can I not walk through you?"

"I don't know," he replied in chatspeak, but Microsoft Word corrected what they said to proper English.

The inability to walk through other players! Oh, horror of horrors, I'd never be able to access my bank again!

I shrieked and tried to run in a circle, but there was another player in the way. I tried to sit down.

Good, I still couldn't.

"Has anyone noticed anything strange?" I asked my fellow players in Varrock Square.

"wats stranj" one of the inobservant crowd replied. I sighed, held out my dragon longsword, and _chaaaaaaaarged!_

That got the other people out of the way, let me tell you.

I hadn't really cared (as long as I got out of the mob), but I noticed that I was heading south. The most useless direction in Varrock. Oh well, at least I was out of the crowded Square.

Now that I was on the less busy road, I was free to walk around normally, though I still had to avoid other players.

"Oy! Guess what?" the tramp by the entrance to the Blackarm gang shouted.

"What?" I asked him.

"I know a new song!" he replied, and started singing that "I love you, you love me" song from Barney.

I ran him through.

Then I continued on my way south of the scary city of Varrock.

However, I didn't get very far before I saw a flashing neon sign to my right.

"Delrith's Pizza Parlor" it said.

A darkwizard walked up to me.

"Welcome to Delrith's Pizza, the only place with demon-cooked pizza in all of Gielenor!" he said. I noticed he was wearing an apron. "May I take your order?"

"Umm…" I replied, noticing that my burnt pizza was shaking with rage.

"Why don't you try chicken pizza, it's our new specialty!"

"Rise against your oppressors! Become free, my brothers!" the burnt pizza started screaming. The chicken quickly joined into the shouts of dismay.

"Free yourself from the clutches of the evil demon!" the pizza yelled as Delrith opened a door in the dolmen to put a pizza in it. I kicked the pizza, and said "Yes, I'd be interested in trying a chicken pizza. Look, I even brought the ingredients!" I smiled evilly as I motioned to the chicken. The chicken swiftly attempted to reduce my feet to cinders, but I kicked it first.

"Thou cruel mistress! Hast thou no compassion for a fowl such as I?"

I thought about it for a moment.

"No, not really," I replied. I turned back to the darkwizard, who was staring at the pizza with an expression of clueless wonderment.

So I impaled him on my sword.

I waved my longsword above my head, yelling, "Murderers of helpless pizzas! Feel my wrath, imbeciles!"

The chicken scorched my back. I twirled around.

"You're getting weirder by the minute. I think you'd better finish the chapter…"

After much careful consideration, I agreed.  
I saved the document on my computer, and closed Microsoft Word.

Well then.

Another chapter, finished.

Are you sure you wanted to read that?

If not, then by all means, don't read anymore, but if you liked it, I do intend to update soon. (However, what I intend isn't what happens, usually)

So, if you don't mind, please review!


	5. Bob, Copy of Bob!

It's been a while since I've updated, hasn't it? People harassing me are often the only reason I post the new chapters.

So, go ahead and message me in game if you want the next chapter to be written! I don't mind. I quite enjoy the groveling of my devoted fans. (Listen to Rebecca's ego inflate!)

In other news, I'm level 81, I've discovered the meaning of life, and I still don't own Runescape.

On with the story!

I sat there and stared at the pitifully quivering Dark Wizard.

"Er…sorry about that. I wanted to end the last chapter with a bang, you see." I sighed (again).

"Uh…" the Dark Wizard stuttered, "I g…guess you w-won't…uh…be wanting a p-pizza…?"

"That would be correct." I turned around and held my sword out. "Allons-y!" (A/n: means 'Let's go!' in French)

I started walking aimlessly in the rough direction of the Heroes Guild. Out of boredom, I pressed 'Locate' on my God Talisman again.

This time, my trip to a utterly dissimilar place was different…I simply teleported.

"I must be getting better at using it…" I muttered to myself, before I realised that I had left the pizza and chicken behind.

"Feh. Good riddance." I surveyed my surroundings, and the little skull in the lower right-hand corner of my screen, which said 'Level 32' right below it.

Well, it would seem that I had made it to the wilderness. It would also seem that I was wearing my rune armour. And that I inexplicably had acquired a skull over my head.  
Drat! I had no intention of losing my precious rune at the hands of a playerkiller.

Alas, it would seem that I was in PKer territory. I took off south at a run.

However, I didn't make it far before I recognised a small black cat that was sitting there staring into the distance with its eyes glazed over.

"Za…um…Bob!" I cried, drawing my sword. The cat jerked out of its trancelike state.

"Eh…?" It turned its head to regard me with the most clueless expression I'd ever seen a cat make.

"You fiend!" I shouted, brandishing my sword. "Look what you've done!"

"Huh?" was its reply. "What are you talking about?"

"This!" I yelled, waving my arms (complete with shield and sword) furiously, and successfully though accidentally knocking a previously disregarded PKer unconcious with my shield. "Fire-breathing chickens! NTombed! Delrith has a pizza parlor, for Guthix's sake!"

"Oh," the cat replied, "that. I know…you should see the HAM dungeon."

I made a mental note to go check it out.  
"Brute! Why are you doing this!"

The cat now looked even more oblivious. "What…?" it inquired. "You're blaming me…?"

"Of course I'm blaming you! Destroying Runescape on your own sadistic whims! You…you…" I stopped as I tried to think of something that cats abhor. "You deserve to be bathed!"

Bob, with a look of horror on his furry visage, attempted to take several steps backwards. However, cats were not invented to be able to walk backwards, so he tripped over his own furry feet.

"W-why do you think that I have devastated Runescape…?"  
"Um, you told me so."

"I did?"  
The cat was obviously clueless, and was confusing me as well. It showed none of the signs of lying...

"Wait…could it be? I thought Andrew had caged him forever…"  
"Andrew Gower is on vacation. Who is it!" I demanded.

"Bob."  
"Er, that's your name."  
"No, I'm Bob."

I stared at the cat. It sighed.  
"My clone. An unfortunate accident with the regeneration mechanism…"

"…Ah."

"His name is mine backwards. Bob."

"…Ah."

"He must have escaped when Andrew left…"

"That's obvious," I replied, sheathing my sword. "So, now that I know this, what do we do?"

"Well, Andrew caught him with an ingenious idea involving a pogo stick, some antiperspirant, a ham sandwich, and a mushroom…"

I blinked. That sounded interesting.

"…But I have no idea how he did it. So, I guess you need to contact him somehow."

"…Me?" I asked, stunned by the idea. "Contact the venerated creator of Runescape?"

"You do seem to be one of the few who's actually noticed."

I sighed.  
"Yes, it would seem that way. Unfortunately, I'm one of the many who has no clue as to what to do about it."

"Go ask a high level monster. Mr. Gower has them on a special watch to make sure they don't go around annihilating things…

"Alrighty then." I turned around, aimed towards the lair of the monster whose name most players are too lazy to type out, thus making it sound like a fast-food outlet. Kentucky Breaded…something. Except the fast food to be eaten would most likely not be the hefty three-headed lizard with exceptionally bad breath which lurks in the location I was headed to, but some poor stupid player who had heard that the previously mentioned lizard was happy, kind, wore pink frilly dresses, and would most likely invite them in for tea.

Aye, to the haunt of the King Black Dragon with me.

I boldly strode forward; undaunted by what lay ahead of me. My valor was unrivaled, my courage unmatched. I was heroically marching off into a perilous place, only concerned with the good of all Runescape, without a thought of myself. I…

"Er, wouldn't it be a good idea to put your stuff in the bank?" a nearly forgotten feline called after me.

Heroically, I turned around.

"Oh yeah," I said, and set off south towards one of the banks which the cat had mentioned. After all, saving Runescape wasn't any good if I lost my possessions in the process!

My trip down to the bank was fairly uneventful. The cat followed me, and we had a intriguing discussion about the weather, namely about how there wasn't any, except for on Waterbirth Island, of course, where the snow never stops, and the flakes are exceptionally large, approximately the size of an average basketball. However, there are no known basketballs in Runescape, so this can only remain an opinion and cannot be verified.

When I got to the nearest bank (the one in Edgeville), there was a river troll scalping tickets for a concert by the Blackrobe Boys, another shade band. Maybe all of the shades were musically inclined…? I pondered this as I yelled numbers at my banker.

I deposited my assorted junk in the bank and set off on a northward course.

Alas, I didn't get far before I met a PKer.

He charged. I stepped aside.

"Nonexistence lacks the qualities required to exist, being that it would have to not exist to exist, thus negating its existence!" I shouted.

He fell over, apparently dead, from the sheer perplexity of the matter. Nay, PKers were not invented to comprehend complicated philosophical concepts. I stepped over his limp figure.  
"Well, that was easy," I remarked to Bob. He agreed.

"To the dragon."

And indeed, that's where we went. The majority of the creatures in the maze leading to said reptile were busy with their own affairs (such as learning to dance the polka), so they gave me no trouble.

I climbed down the ladder, and was instantly jolted by the manner in which the dragon had redecorated the place. Somehow, I'd never pictured the lair of a dragon resembling a skateboard park, but that's how it was, down to the very last graffitied letter.

"Yo!" a voice behind me called. I flinched, and whirled around. An immense black lizard with 3 heads was aimed towards me, riding a skateboard. "Wassup?"

I gaped as I noted that all 3 heads were wearing backwards baseball caps.

"Um," I stated in a most dignified manner. "Would you happen to know how to contact Andrew Gower? I'd heard that you might …"

"Sorry," it said as it attempted a complex jump and failed. "That's a one way thing only. He watches me, I dunno what he's doin'."

I sighed. I had been hoping to get back to the regularity of normal Runescape, although this was interesting indeed…

"Well, are you aware anyone who would know?" I inquired, fairly desperately.

"Nope." The dragon skated away. I teleported out of the reptile's den to Falador with a grim feeling of desperation in my stomach.

"What am I going to do about this?" I asked the cat. However, the cat wasn't there; I had obviously left it behind.

"Nar," I grumbled as I walked in no particular direction. Straight into a building I walked. An unfamiliar building.

Wham! The door locked behind me, and a player with a gold crown in her username turned around and spread her arms.

"Welcome," said Mod Emma V, an exceedingly demonic and fairly psychotic smile spreading on her face, "to my tea shop."

A spell that I hadn't seen before burst from her hands and hit me, and I didn't remember what happened next.


	6. A Disgusting Escape!

Hail, friends and strangers alike!

No, I did not really meet a Jagex mod, you silly people. It's a story. There's a reason that it's called 'fanFICTION'. And on that same line of thought, my ownership of Runescape is fictional as well.

Anywho, it's a short chapter. Sorry 'bout that, I intend for next chapter to be extra long just to make it up to you.

Anyways, on with the story!

I awoke with a groan and surveyed my surroundings.

Alas, my first reaction would undoubtedly not be suited to a K+ story such as this one; however, I would guess that you, my readers, intelligent human beings (or maybe not…?) could (and already have) deduce what it was because I told you that it wasn't suited to this story. If you haven't, you will undoubtedly know in the next paragraph.

Unfortunately, I was left in a situation that was equally difficult no matter which way you put it; was the room upside-down and I was inexplicably hovering a foot or so above the floor (which strongly resembled a Runescape ceiling in its utter nonexistence), rooted down only by a bulky steel chain? Or was I, in fact, hanging by my ankles from the ceiling?

The former would suggest that the temporospatial continuum had been rather steamrolled, as it were, as if someone had taken a scissors to the string theory.

However, I doubted that such was the case; Zaumbob would undoubtedly not have gone so far to mess up Runescape's dimensional qualities, as that would indubitably endanger his entire existence. According to Occam's Razor, the simplest explanation was the best, so I chose the second option in the previous paragraph.

Great. Now I had that figured out. Now, I just had to work out how to escape from my unfortunate situation.

I felt a rush of blood in my head as I thought.

Good old gravity.

Alas, I did not get far in my schemes for a daring, harrowing escape before the upside-down door opened and an upside-down moderator entered the room, an upside-down cart of tea in her tow.

She glanced nonchalantly in my direction.

"Ah, you've awakened!" the exclaimed, a malevolent grin spreading across her face. "Now we can have _fun_."

I did _not_ like the manner in which she accentuated the last word in that sentence.

She laughed evilly, causing me to shudder from my feet down to my head.

"Moderators aren't supposed to be evil!" I informed her (in a rather annoyed manner).

"Oh?" she inquired, looking at me skeptically. "And why not?"

Now, normally I could have thought of a million reasons as to 'why not', but alas, I am not a bat; I was neither created nor had I intended to end up hanging from the ceiling. Thus, my upside-down brain's capacity was, in fact, rather compromised from the excessive blood-flow in my head.

Again, she laughed maliciously.

"Care for a biscuit?" she inquired, gesturing towards a plate of cookies on her cart. "My newest recipe, you know. Guaranteed to send you to Lumbridge within ten seconds!"

"Er, no thanks."

"Too bad," she said, smiling her not-so-friendly smile, "that would have been the only way you could have escaped." She turned her back on me and proceeded to walk towards the door.

"NO!" I informed her as I attempted to lunge toward the cookies. "Give me one! Please!"

She spun around. "I thought you didn't want one?" she inquired.

"Changed my mind! They sound spectacular."

She handed me a cookie. "Have a nice death," she told me, then proceeded to leave the room.

I inspected the cookie. Ugh! It was moldy. I sniffed it. It smelled spectacularly horrific.

"Well, here goes," I muttered to myself. I took a bite out of it.

Eugh! It tasted like a combination of spoiled milk and rotten grapefruit. I promptly spat it out.  
I forced myself to take another bite and swallow it.

"There," I muttered darkly. "I can see how _that_ would kill someone."

I felt myself going faint. "Fare thee well, room of horrors," I mumbled and promptly blacked out as a splat that appeared to be vaguely related to a paintball appeared above my feet.

"Oogh!" I loudly informed the world of Runescape as I appeared in Lumbridge. I was groggy from both the effects of death and the flavour of that cookie. I promptly sat down on the nearest chair.

Wait, _sat down_? My posterior finally had a reason for existence? I turned white with shock at this alarming concept.

The forces at work in Runescape were foul indeed; I had to stop boB before time ran out!


	7. Another Exclamation Mark!

After a moment, I relieved myself of my sitting position. With an expression of shock on my face, I walked in a random direction.

I walked into a wall. Drat.

I turned and walked some more, until I tripped over something and prostrated myself on top of it.

This thing was covered in feathers, and it coughed out a puff of smoke as I landed on it.

"The nameless chicken?" I asked, surprised. "Drat, I thought I had gotten rid of you!"

I stood up, removing feathers from my chest.

"Nope!" it said, too happily. "By popular demand, I have returned! Apparently, the readers love me."

It sneezed.

I groaned.

"Alrighty. And where, might I ask, is the pizza?"

"Er…" it said. "SO THEN, what have you been up to?"

"Where. Is. The. Pizza?" I demanded. It was clear that it was avoiding the question.

"Ah…I lost him."

"You lost him?"

"I lost him." The chicken gulped.

"Ah. Okay!" I said, undoubtedly in a much happier manner than the chicken had expected.

"You…you're happier than I expected," it said, hesitantly.

"Good riddance!" I said. I started to walk.

"Then…okay!" it said, and followed me.

I was in Lumbridge at the time, so it was probably a good idea to leave before the 'n00bs' could assault me again.

I ran in the rough direction of Draynor; there, I would be safe. One doesn't see many n00bs in Draynor. The chicken followed me, much faster than I had previously believed poultry could travel without the use of modern devices.

However, when I arrived at the HAM dungeon, I was distracted by a memory; I remembered what the (non-evil) Bob had said -- _Ah, you should see the HAM dungeon._

So, of course I had to investigate. I meandered over to the trapdoor in the diagonal building, and pried the lock open with a hairpin that was inexplicably in my inventory.

As soon as the door was open, a blast of sound filled my ears and caused me to stagger backwards.

"And…you're going down there?" inquired the chicken, rather dubiously.

"You betcha," I said. My curiosity had gotten the better of me.

I clamped my hands over my ears and attempted to climb down into the dungeon. However, climbing ladders while not having use of one's hands is not generally a good idea, so instead of descending gracefully like I had intended to do, I was affected by gravity in a rather severe manner. After lying there for a moment nursing my newly established bruises, I removed myself from the ground on which I had been drawn towards by some of the more regrettable forces of nature. I dusted myself off; I seemed to be more than slightly covered in dirt.

At this point in time, the chicken landed on top of me.

"OOG!" I informed both the chicken and the ground which I was swiftly headed towards. I landed on the before mentioned hard flat dirty thing with a thud.

"Thanks," I notified the chicken as I stood up and brushed myself off for the third time in the chapter.

"Not a problem," the chicken responded, clearly not catching the sarcasm inherent in my previous phrase.

I walked hesitantly in the direction of the main HAM room. The noise had, fortunately, stopped for now; now, it was too quiet. A lone voice suddenly filled the air.

"Wrong, wrong!" it shouted. I peeked through the door to see Johannus Ulbrecht standing on the podium waving a stick around. "Do it again, but this time, _ON TUNE!_" There was a collective groan from the orderly crowd of HAM members standing before him.

"ALSO," he bellowed, "It would be a _very_ good idea to follow the tempo of the music!"

"What," I demanded, "are you doing?" I strode into the room with an utterly baffled look on my face. Johannus Ulbrecht looked up.

"Why, isn't it obvious?" he asked, in a rather loud voice, "This is the HAM choir, where we sing praises to Saradomin!"

"Are you sure you want to be praising Saradomin at this point in time?" I asked in a rather skeptical manner. I was promptly ignored.

"Would you care to join us in our hymns of exaltation?"

I didn't particularly care for the feeling of having my eardrums scraped with a sharpened Spork, so I opened my mouth to refuse. However, before I got around to it, I heard a voice from the back of the room.

"No, she can't join your choir. She's _mine_." From the shadows behind the podium on which the energetic conductor was standing, a figure appeared. It had fangs. And a meat tenderiser. Oh boy.

It emerged from the darkness. Drat. I'd had no wish to encounter Saradomin again, but that did seem to be what had happened. He advanced towards me, a menacing grin on his face. I drew my sword and stumbled backwards.

"Lord Saradomin!" shouted Johannus Ulbrecht. "What…what an honour it is to have you visiting our humble dungeon!" He threw himself on Saradomin, who promptly fell over.

"Blasted mortals!" he exclaimed, shoving off his all-too-enthusiastic follower.

Suddenly, randomly, and simultaneously, all of the HAM members started singing. I clamped my hands over my ears; they were all singing different songs.

Of course, I had forgotten that I was holding my sword, so I nearly beheaded myself.

"Aie!" I said, putting pressure on my newly acquired self-inflicted injury.

Saradomin righted himself and continued to advance towards me. Alas; the 'music', if that's what you'd call it, seemed to have no effect on him.

I stumbled backwards, still holding my wound. "Stand back!" I shouted, waving my now-bloody sword wildly.

"It's been far too long since I've tasted the flavour of human flesh…" As if on cue, blood began to drip from Saradomin's newfound fangs.

I readied myself for a battle that I would undoubtedly lose; people don't often fight gods and win. 'Saradomin, Level ∞' appeared on my screen as I moved my mouse over him.

Level ∞? Infinity?

One thought ran through my mind as the rather vicious god advanced; _I'm doomed._

But suddenly, a blast of fire filled the room.

"Hm," I pondered, as the flames licked my ankles, "This would be an opportune moment to run."

So, I did. Like the coward that I am, I departed in an unusually rapid manner. Bravery is for idiots, those who enjoy dying, and for those possessing a combination of the latter two traits. I'll take being a coward any day, thank-you very much.

So, I ran. I ran all the way to Draynor and beyond. Indeed, I made it to Rimmington before I stopped running, and even then only because I had run out of energy. I sighed and walked, as I had in the past, to the dwelling of Hetty. Perhaps she had acquired more knowledge of the situation? It was worth a try; said circumstances were becoming more than slightly dire.

However, when I got there, she was nowhere to be found. "Drat, she must be out," I muttered to myself. I turned around to leave, but as I put my foot down, a shriek took place in the rough direction of the before-mentioned extremity.

I bent down to examine the source.

"Hetty! When did you become so small?" I inquired, because, sure enough, a very tiny witch had taken residence within inches of my foot.

"I seem to have shrunk," she informed me.

"I can tell," I replied. "In direct violation of the first law of thermodynamics, too; how'd you pull that off?"

"Does magic ever obey the first law of thermodynamics?" she asked. "Anyways, I have some information on what's next. I imagine that's what you came here for?"

I nodded and picked her up. Leaning over like I'd been doing wasn't good for my back.

"You need to go to Camelot."

"Why?" I asked. I couldn't imagine that Arthur Inc. was any saner than the rest of Runescape.

"Because," she said, "they haven't been affected by the spell."

This came as a bit of a surprise to me.

"And why not?" I inquired, surprised.

"Because they have a stable identity outside of the game, and the stone of their castle helped protect them from the effects of the spell."

"Ah," I said, comprehending. "And…you think this will turn out better than consulting the King Black Dragon?"

"King Black Dragon? Eh?" she asked, sounding thoroughly mystified. "What was wrong with that?" She obviously hadn't been paying attention to my adventures. I opened my mouth to inform her as to just how successful _that_ particular endeavour had been.

"We-" I started, but she cut me off.

"Anywho, time's a-wasting! Put me down now and be off, I have work to do."

At that point in time, she vanished utterly, and a puff of smoke filled my nostrils. I sighed.

"Hello," I said in a thoroughly unenthusiastic manner. "You're back."

"That I am!" the chicken said happily. "And you owe me a debt of gratitude for saving you from that lunatic."

"THANK YOU," I groaned, annoyed. The chicken sneezed.

I grabbed my invisible and very empty inventory bag as I readopted my cowardly nature and ran outside; Hetty's astonishingly wooden house was being enveloped in flames.

I heard malicious purring behind me.

"Well, well. We meet again," said an all-too-familiar feline voice.

"boB!" I cried, rummaging through my aforementioned invisible inventory sack for a suitably dangerous-looking weapon. "What business do you have with me?"

"Why, isn't it obvious?" he asked, a smirk revealing itself on his whiskery face. "I'm the antagonist of the story; I've dropped by to complicate matters beyond where they are."

"It is my full intention to eviscerate you by the end of this story," I said, growling. I dismissed my quest for a weapon as futile and stood up.

'Eviscerate me? My, my; that's not very nice of you." boB hissed.

"Be gone, fiend of Lumbridge!" I shouted, waving my arms wildly for lack of a weapon.

"Adieu," he said, turning away from me. "Have fun getting to Camelot."

He vanished in a burst of flame instigated by the nameless chicken.

"Congratulations," the chicken declared, attempting to wipe its schorched beak with its wing. "You just wasted over half a page without anything of importance actually happening."

"Ar, shut up." I walked north, in the rough direction of Taverly, through which I intended to aim for Camelot. Alas, just as the evil boB had predicted, it was not so easy…

When I reached the gate, I was unable to open it, due to a sign plastered onto it with a very sticky and very effective mixture of duct tape and superglue.

"**WARNING! KEEP OUT! QUARANTINE! NO ENTRY PERMITTED**" it read, in letters that were bright red and bold. Beneath the letters, there was a skull and crossbones. I sighed.

"All right, find another way!" I announced, pointing the way with my nonexistent weapon. I really needed to get to the bank.

The problem was, I didn't really have a clue where I was pointing. I walked aimlessly in a circle, trailing my foot on the ground so I could uproot the grass and cause what appeared to be a miniature crop circle to confuse future players of the great Game.

"What _are_ you doing?" the chicken demanded. I told it.

"Don't worry, I'm confused too," it reassured me in an utterly non-reassuring manner.

I stopped walking and stood there for a moment.

"To the bank!" My energy was fully charged now, so I took off at a run in the approximate direction of Falador.

When I arrived at the bank, I spoke to the banker.

Alas! He didn't hear a word I said.

"Must…serve…my master," he said.

"Er, what?" I inquired, waving my hand in front of his face. "BANK."  
"Must…serve…my master," he repeated, staring off into the distance.

I breathed a sigh of frustration and walked over to another banker.

"Must…serve…my master," said the other, in the exact same tone of voice.

I groaned. boB had clearly gotten to them, too. Now I was rendered unable to teleport to Camelot. I cursed my luck.

I left Falador, going to the south. If I wasn't going to get to Camelot in a normal way, I was going to make it there in an -abnormal- way. And I had a plan.

"Where are you going?" the chicken asked apprehensively. It clearly saw that I was plotting something, and was nervous. After all, my last plots had turned out _so_ well.

"You'll see," I declared, breaking into a run as I reached the familiar docks of Port Sarim.

"My dear sir," I said to a monk of Entrana, a rather evil grin creeping across my face. "Would you care to take me to your island?"

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **

Worry not! The next chapter will be up in a short time; I'm just trying to iron out some details. I have some very good ideas, and I'm eager to write them out.

Also, my beloved readers, I appear to have become rather broke. If anyone would be willing to donate some gold to their favourite authouress, they would be much loved. D

_**Or else.**_


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